here sits a man, beaten and broken by the world that so callously brought him into existence, his stomach churning from neglect how could someone do this to themselves? what kind of sad, pathetic piece of shit do you have to be to let a real, physical pain all but consume you to the point of barely being able to function properly? how much must you hate life to allow such a pain to grow and fester until the point you need to be rushed to the emergency room out of pure and simple neglect for your own well being?

his name is jon renteria, a 22 year old mixed race kid out of Denver, and currently he sits in bed, typing away what must be and could only be his inner most thoughts in an attempt to lighten the load and perhaps, maybe, share a piece of the burden he's been tasked with upholding. and believe me when I say that this was not an easy thing for him to do. in the past, he had gone on rambling and raging about all the shit wrong with his life to the people he considered closest to him, but as time went on and the pain never got any better, he gave up hope somewhere along the way that he'd finally be able to get what was really bothering him off of his chest.

jon's dad is dead. he is gone, and he's never coming back. that much I can accept. but what he cant accept is this feeling of hatred and distrust that caring for him in his dying hour brought upon him. jon could have had a life, he could have had friends and gone out to parties and had the growing up experience just like everyone else, but instead he was driven by the very mind allotted to him by the lord to ruin everything he had ever worked for in hopes of just a few more months with his father. most of you might even say this is fine. is it not a boy's responsibility to burden the title of man of the house when his father isn't around anymore to pick up the slack, just as it is a fathers job to raise and groom their some in such a way that, by the time they turn 18, they are ready to take on the world as they're father before them had done. but what's different about this story is that, his father had never done that for him.

you see, through what can only be describes as a horrid twist in fate. jons dad started getting sick long before he had ever started deteriorating from a disease he always knew he would inevitably get. whether it was this knowledge that drove him to make the decisions he did or if he was simply crazy, we'll probably never know. but what I do know is that mike never had anything to give jon in of himself. through others, like his mom and loving wife, he could be somewhat of a provider and at least make it look like he was trying his hardest. but if he was really, honestly trying his hardest, jon wouldn't have gotten pawned off on his grandmother over the weekends because his father didn't have the money to feed him. his mother, Catherine, wouldn't have had to work back to back twelve hour shifts daily just to keep food on the table for three, sometimes four people. if what he gave was his hardest, then his wife's dad wouldn't have to be the one who could proudly declare that it was HE who provided for the family and not jon's father.

I apologize for getting ahead of myself. needless to say mike was not the kind of man that jon had to take care of, nor was he a man that he probably should have. most rational human beings would have been out of that picture before it ever really began, leaving it up to someone else to deal with the cruel realities of life. this is a man who, by all accounts, should have been abandoned the moment he became a burden. jon should have gotten on with his life, forgotten about reality and gone on without a care towards anyone else just as most anyone else would have. but jon didn't run, he stayed.

even when it was most inconvenient for him, he stayed. even when his father began going criminally insane and making demands of him no one could possibly ever hold themselves to, jon stayed. when he fell, jon was there to pick him up, when he needed help walking, jon was always there behind him pushing him forward and helping him deal with a reality of cruelty. even when he choked on his piles of mush he had to force down his own throat just to keep himself alive, and nobody could help him, jon stood with him ready to call for help should he absolutely need it. you see, mike had huntingtins, which for those of you who haven't heard of it, is an extremely rare, extremely deadly disease that attacks ones nervous system, brain included, until they become nothing more then a retarded, semi competent shell of what they once were. and none of this happens over night. this is a long, drawn out process that almost completely mimics a regular death sans the fact that it all happens over the course of ten years or so. for ten years, from the moment he first lost his ability to drive to the day they inevitably parted ways, jon did what was in his power to take care of him his own way. maybe not necessarily the way a doctor would have recommended, but it was certainly all he could muster up in the face of such overwhelming odds. there were no doctors visits, for this hadn't been the first time someone in our family had been struck with such misfortune. this was the forth time, and jon's grandmothers last and only well son left to get the disease. three times before, they had gone through it all step by step. by this time, jon knew enough to know that no doctor could ever help him. no one could save him from the pain he was enduring, and so in mercy, jon took it upon himself to be the mans caregiver. to do for him what any hospice would have done. to put him at ease at the coming of the end of his life.

during that time, when he was alive, the things jon did for his father were also ruining his life.. but in all honestly, none of that had even occurred to him until it was all said and done. at one time, before any of this, jon had had friends. people that he could relate to and talk to and not give a shit, day by day, about the occurrences in his life. until then, jon had just been a normal kid. a normal kid with a crap father, perhaps, but still normal enough. but at every twist and turn, and through every decision he made, slowly but surely jons options waivered. where at one time he had been in collage, in pursuit of a political science degree he had sought since he was just a wee youngling, but due to the fact that jon had never passed algebra 2 in high school, it was an uphill battle. thts not to say he didn't do as much as he could, far from it in fact. he took all the courses necessary for the first part of the degree by the time he turned 22, but due to the fact that he could never get passed that math hump, though he didn't drop out per say, he did leave collage with little to no thought of ever going back.

and that's when it all began to go downhill. you see, through some eerily pleasant twist of fate, the year jon finally gave up on his dreams was also the year that his dad would die. three moths before, it had become apparent that mike wasn't doing good. at the time, jon thought that he was going to have to put him in a home, his attitude had become so poisonous. he just couldn't do it anymore. the yelling, the fighting, getting shit for only trying to do good by someone who had given him crap his entire life. but just as fleeting as those selfish thoughts were so too was mikes life and, before even losing his ability to walk. mike passed away. because you see, that kindness that jon had shown him? it wasn't for nothing. he knew his son loved him and he had loved his son, and so without telling anyone, mike pushed himself past the normal limits of a human. day after day, as hard as everyone worked to keep him safe and happy. he had worked just as hard attempting to lighten the burden. he walked for himself. he ate for himself. and he kept himself alive despite the pain because, as he would tell Catherine when the two of them were alone, he wanted to live for his son who he could see was so heartbroken over what was happening to him. he saw the futility of attempting to keep a dead man alive but rather then pick a fight about it, he sucked it up and tried hard reguardless because it was all eh could do at this point to at least try and be some kind of role model for his son to see and strive to be like.

you see folks, its very, very easy to see something, or someone, from your own point of view and never step into theirs to see what they might be thinking. its easy to go your entire life hating someone based off of presumed facts, and to write someone off who failed to meet your expectation's as a failure. what's hard, and only becomes easy once someone you care about is gone, is to see the world through they're perspective. to jon, mike had never been anything else but a crap dad who burdened him with nothing but selfish actions and reasoning's. but how do you think mike felt about it all? you know for a man its easy to just walk away, if history has proven anything. and not only had mike been the right age for such a feat, but also the right generation, mike never gave e up on TRYING to do good by his family. maybe he didn't try his hardest 100 percent of the time, but the truth of th matter is he stuck around. not because he had to, or because he wanted to, or even because he was needed. but because he wanted to be needed. deep down inside, mike wanted to be the kind of father that jon could be proud of, he wanted to be the man who provided for his family and give them everything they ever wanted. but he never could. again and again he tried, but when you cant keep a steady job, and there are only so many cars to go around in the family, how was he supposed to do it? when at every step and turn life had worked to keep him down, how is one supposed to overcome such insurmountable odds without so much as a pot to piss in to his name? it was tough. but he never stopped trying for the sake of the he loved.

why am I even writing any of this? why now? at any give point during any given day I could have written this all down and come to terms with the way I'm feeling on the inside but didn't. and yet, day after day, I allowed life overwhelm me to the point of barely being able to function. this was a mistake. for you see, if life is but an uncontrollable current, then the inevitable truth of the matter is if your no longer willing or able to kick, your going to drown. and believe me. I'm drowning. so perhaps this little segment of self righteous, liberal propaganda was, in a way, my last hope of clinging to life. I don't want to die. I don't want the pain to overwhelm me and take me along with so many others its taken. my desire is to attain a strength inside so powerful, that no matter the wave thrown in front of me from this point forward, I will not waiver. and so I write as though my very life depends on it because, right now, in this very moment, it does. the actions I take here and now, reguardless of the uncertain future before me, decide what kind of man i'll inevitably turn out to be. and right now, what I want to be is someone whos strong enough, and kind enough, to put his story out there for anyone willing to listen as to perhaps prevent you from making the same mistakes I made.

please. for fucks sake. be kind to the people around you. put some god damn forethought into the words you speak before they ever leave your lips and land in the fertile crescent of another's inner ear . don't spend your entire life making decisions based on the needs of those around you, be a little bit selfish, but don't be so selfish that you completely neglect that which is most important and completely necessary for any true human being to function. please don't forget about love.

Edited by retroluffy13, 12 November 2016 - 03:13 PM.

YoWid likes this

this is a music video I made for a friend of mine. give it a listen. the visuals are pretty dope

Spoiler

also some ear kandy

Spoiler

when you love something.. and I mean. really love it. you fight for it for as long as you can until you cant stand any longer. then when its all said and done, walk away with a smile hoping you did right.

I am a virgin, as shocking as that must sound. ha. but no, seriously. ive never lain with a woman before in my life. this is the part where most people would probably tell you "not from a lack of trying mind you" but that's far from the truth. ive never seriously attempted to seduce anyone in real life, and its not like I couldn't have or anything. plenty of women have basivly thrown themselves=ves at me over the course of my life to which I never pursued for the simple matter of fact that sex isn't whats most important to me. what ive always sought out from relationships, above all else, is a kindred spirit with which to share my life with. someone who can understand what it is I'm going through at least to some extend. and though its not a particularly long list, I have met the one. twice in fact. so take it from a guy who spent the majority of the first half of his life searching for that perfect "one" that will fill the viod in your heart, if your patient enough, shes out there. and there aren't just one of her. there are PROBABLY MILLION of people in the world with which you can fall in love with and have that perfect storybook romance. me though, well. that's a different story. sometimes love just isn't enough, expecially when your partner is so insecure about themselves that they can't go a single day without talking to you and getting upset over the fact that you haven't talked to them all day.

the first time was when I was very, very young. I was about between the age of 10 to 12 or so. she was my next door neighbor, my best friend, and the one person in the world ive hurt the most. of course, time heals all wounds, and surely she's forgotten about me by now, but I haven't forgotten about her. it was perfect you know? the kind of story you read about in the kind of books where, 20 years later, the two people reunite and live happily ever after. but while true love isn't false, the story book endings you always hear about in cheesy romantic comedies isn't. I have no expectations of ever seeing this girl again, and in the end it was my own fault. see, we were just young kids at the time, and three years after being brought into my life sadly but surely, she was destined to move away. I didn't take it well. I told her that if she was leaving, then there was no point in stating friends, and for the rest of her time in our neighborhood, like an ass, I ignored her. but as it turns out, fate is fucking cruel, and she wants gone forever. in fact it had been less then a year when she finally came back. and as it turned out, she missed me and still wanted to be friends despite it all. but I was prideful and hurt. I didn't want anything to do with her until years later when my balls finally dropped and I began to wonder why it was that I liked romance movies so much. I had never been in love, had it? then it dawned on me that all this time, I had been in love with her and not even known it. but at that point, it was too late. too much time had passed and, simply put. she wanted nothing to do with me.

I went on like this for a few years, sad and depressed about something I could never take back. you'd have thought id have learned my lesson by now. to bad for me, I hadn't, because when the next one came around I fucked it up even worse then the time before.

her name was harmony, and for all intents and purposes, she was the love of my life. our relationship was... complicated. partially because she lived half way across the us from me, and partially for reasons I'm really not at liberty to discuss. needless to say, this relationship was pretty much doomed from the start. I mean I loved her, and I mean REALLY loved her. she's the only person to this day ive ever really been intimate with. but things were not meant to work out between us. of course, eventually she met someone in her home state that she wanted to date, and being that I was halfway across the us permanently... well, quite frankly the relationship didn't end on the best of terms. we talked back and forth for a while, and one time I even went out to see her despite the distance but eventually she got tired of the fact that I never got over her and eventually moved on from me completely.

I could probably get in contact with her if I really, really tired hard, kissed her ass, and begged my friends to get her to lend me her ear. but its too late. the damage has been done and my heart has been broken. also, quite frankly, I moved on from her about a year or so ago. because unlike last time where I had years to sit on feelings I never understood, this time, life would hit me with more powerful obstacles I would need 100 percent of my wits to conquer. for better or worse, life through a challenge at me that kind of made me completely forget her completely. but from time too time, my mind will still wander back and ill find myself missing her something fierce. but in those moments, I stay strong and out of her life, because what's best for her is, inevitably, not me.

because of these intense relationships I got into before I even hit the age of 16, my teenage years suffered accordingly. in high school I never wanted to date so I never pursued anyone. in collage, even when I was pursued I turned them down, still hoping beyond hope that my harmony would come back to me. of course she never did, and as a result I had a lot less fun in school then most kids my age.

what didn't suffer was the teenage experience. my personal drug of choice was, back then, alchohol. and man did I know how to use it. every party I went to, every person I met, and every group of friends I found myself surrounded by, inevitably it all lead back to alchohol when I would go out on the weekends, I would binge and get SO black out wasted drunk that its a miracle I never got myself hurt or even killed. this went on for years before eventually I decided enough was enough, and cut the stuff out of my life cold turkey. not to say I haven't indulged since back then, but what I can say is that after the trip up to see harmony where I came back so depressed I nearly od'd on a few big bottles of burben and whiskey, I haven't touched the stuff like how I use to since.

but alcohol isn't the only lucky drug in my life. there's also pot. and tons of it. I have been smoking pot since I was only 13 years old and I haven't stopped since. its almost been a full ten years now, when I stop and think about it. now, for most people pot is a drug you take when your around a bunch of friends when you want to chill and not deal with life around you. while it was for me at first, It also inevitably cured me of a big problem I've always had. overthinking. when I'm NOT smoking pot, my mind literally races a thousand miles per second. it actually got so bad at one point, that I couldn't turn it off unless I went to sleep, and even then id simply wake up the next morning and be right back a it again. and so even after I got away from the drinking scene and my friends who, in all honesty were way too old to be hanging around with a kid like me in the first place. I never gave it up because in the raging storm of bullshit that way my life, pot was my only savior. the only thing that didn't either leave me or I I it. pot was there for me in my best of times and the worst of times, and for better or worse, to this day I still smoke it like its nobodies business. because its not.

YoWid likes this

this is a music video I made for a friend of mine. give it a listen. the visuals are pretty dope

Spoiler

also some ear kandy

Spoiler

when you love something.. and I mean. really love it. you fight for it for as long as you can until you cant stand any longer. then when its all said and done, walk away with a smile hoping you did right.